


What They Expect to See

by ProtoNeoRomantic



Series: Patch Works [13]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Appearances, Arson, Assumptions, Expectations, F/M, Gen, Grief, Literary References & Allusions, Loss, Other, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 03:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1330435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoNeoRomantic/pseuds/ProtoNeoRomantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Spike misses an opportunity to visit his wrath directly upon Buffy, Sunday suggests a more oblique approach, with results worthy of Angelus himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What They Expect to See

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Who Do You Think You Are?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235281) by [ProtoNeoRomantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoNeoRomantic/pseuds/ProtoNeoRomantic). 



“Of all the stinking rotten no good buggering luck!” Spike fumed. “What? Are they out celebrating? Hitting the after-hours clubs?”

“I’m bored,” Harmony whined, stamping her foot, “let’s burn something down, already!”

“Back to sending that messages then?” Spike scoffed. “We need a better idea.”

“Uh, guys?” Sunday suggested coolly, “I have a better idea.”

“Oh yeah?” Spike challenged, “what’s that?”

She smiled. “Let’s ‘send a message’ to the County Prosecutor. One that says, ‘Hi, I’m Buffy Summers and I need to be arrested because I like to burn things down and kill the witnesses to murders I maybe did have something to do with after all.’”

Spike smiled slowly, appreciatively, nodding his approval. “It can’t be this place, though,” he mused. “They'll blame Angel first. Even if we leave them plenty of incriminating clues. No it needs to be someone who’s more likely to be a witness against _her_ specifically. Someone she would have confessed to maybe.”

“Oh that’s easy,” said Harmony, “and it’ll serve stupid Xander Harris right! Let’s kill Willow Rosenberg!”

~~~~

Giles got back in his own bed, alone, a little after two am. After half an hour he got up. He couldn’t sleep. There were too many important variables that he had no control over, and too much hanging in the balance. He was tempted to have a drink to settle his nerves, but he had a sneaking suspicion his nerves were getting entirely to used to being settle that way lately. Too much reliance on the philosophy of Brother Malt could easily become a bit unseemly for... he chuckled to himself... a family man. He picked up the works of Reverend Donne instead (another family man of some note he realized, not without amusement) enjoying his fearless ability to treat passion as if it were imminently reasonable.

As the clock rolled on from three to four, he was tempted to call Buffy. He’d have liked to have known how things had gone with her mother. On the off chance that she might actually be getting some sleep, he let her be. Instead, he set to work on his next Official Report to the Council, describing Buffy’s many accomplishments over the last few days in as much intricate and glowing detail as possible, holding back information that was over due to be reported.

It was an exercise in what American politicians called ‘spin’ and the rest of the English speaking world propaganda. Except that every single word about Buffy's accomplishments was true. She was, without a doubt, the most talented and effective Slayer in a century or more. Given her unconventional approach to every possible aspect of her calling, Giles couldn’t help but wonder if the Council were upholding the wrong conventions. More likely it was simply another case of the rules didn’t apply to Buffy. If there was one thing poor Owen had ever been right about in his short life it was Buffy Summers. She was a force of nature. Buffy was Buffy. No further explanation was required.

~~~~

Sirens wailed. Flames crackled. The Sheriff and the Police Chief looked up tensely as the Fire Chief approached. “Arson?” Ron asked.

“Without a doubt,” Chief Grady confirmed, “and murder. There’s a body in one of the upstairs bedrooms.”

“The girl or the mother?” Bob asked.

Grady shrugged. “That’s more your end of things, isn’t it?”

“We should call the Mayor again,” Ron said. “He’ll want to know about this.”

“And Snyder,” Bob agreed. “But first, I’m going to put out a BOLO on the Rosenberg girl. If she’s not dead, she’s out after hours at the very least.”

“What about the Summers girl? She has a history of Arson,” Ron pointed out.

“Good thinking,” Bob agreed, “let’s pick her up.”

~~~~

Buffy dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs as the insistent ringing of the doorbell gave way to knocking and then to pounding. What time was it? The sun still wasn’t up. She stood on her tip toes to peep through the fish eye lens at a harrowed looking Willard and Amy. They rushed in without a word of invitation as she opened the door. She quickly closed it behind them.

“What’s wrong,” Buffy asked tensely. Willard shuttered, unable to speak.

“Fire,” Amy explained, trembling herself as she and Buffy led Willard to the couch and sat down. “Someone burned her house down. Sheila’s dead.”

“Angelus,” said Buffy bitterly, suddenly very wide awake. Angel was gone, so long and thanks for the redemption, but Buffy and the rest of the mortal world still had to deal with the fall out, including his uniquely telescopic sense on vengeance. He hadn’t managed to break Giles quite badly enough to break Buffy, but he was doing a more thorough job on Willow.

“There’s more bad,” said Amy, “Cops. Everywhere. More cops than firemen. They’re calling it a murder. They’re looking for both of you, probably be here any minute.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” said Buffy. Her mind was racing. Her instincts were telling her to run, but that hadn’t worked out so well last time. She was tempted to go after the vamps right now, but that was probably what they wanted, to provoke her into plunging headlong into their trap. “Get Willard out of here,” she said firmly. “They’ll never guess who he is, and you’re not a suspect. No need to ruin that by getting caught here. Ditch Dr. Rosenberg’s car if you still have it. Go to your dad’s”

“He’s not going to let a guy stay with us,” Amy pointed out.

“No, I guess not.” Buffy thought a minute. “He can stay with Giles. I’ll call him and tell him you’re coming. If I get arrested, don’t sweat it. I can always break out later if I have to... I think.”

“Well I did what I could for you with Engles,” Amy said, “It felt like it worked. I guess we’ll see.”

“Thanks,” Buffy said and she meant it. She didn’t have time to worry too much about the rights and wrongs of it right now. She needed someone to keep the law off her back. Amy got Willard back up on his feet and left with him through the kitchen door. Buffy closed it behind them and reached for the phone.

~~~~

Giles picked up on the first ring. “Buffy?” He called.  But it was the police.

 


End file.
